What Hurts The Most
by ringaroundtherollins
Summary: The night before Fastlane, Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose both turn to an unlikely source for solace. Is this the end of Ambreigns? Can their friendship survive another brawl for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship? Brotherly Ambreigns feels. One-shot. Sequel to "Reparations", "What Dreams Are Made Of", and "Miracles In Davenport". Some language.


_**A/N: Fastlane is tomorrow, guys. Oh boy. Anything is possible and I'm counting on the WWE to break my heart. This one-shot is guaranteed a sequel, depending on the results of the Triple Threat match between Roman, Dean, and Brock Lesnar. If Ambreigns breaks up, I'm not going to stop my ship or my fics, nuh-uh. Who knows? Maybe a feud between them could be great. Or maybe it'll destroy us all. Anyway, enjoy this piece of heartache and I'll see you guys tomorrow~**_

* * *

It had been two days since they'd spoken. Far too long. He couldn't recall the last time they'd been without each other for much longer than a few hours. Now they were deprived days' worth of conversation and interaction?

Is this the way things would be from now on?

Roman watched the moon from the balcony of an empty hotel room. He'd checked himself in without telling anyone, including _him_ , where he was going. He needed time alone, time to think, to contemplate the events of this week. Twice now Dean had sought after him as an enemy. Business was business but their battle had been scheduled for Sunday, no earlier. Until now.

He put the beer bottle to his lips. He couldn't drink or sleep away the pain. He had to confront it. Tomorrow. Just eight or nine hours away now. Everything was at stake. His health, Dean's health, the opportunity of a lifetime, WrestleMania, and especially his friendship with Dean.

Would it last?

He liked to think so. They'd survived the implosion of the Shield. And they'd fought before. Ambrose hadn't betrayed him, not really. That attempted Dirty Deeds…a bit of friendly competition, yes? Preparations for Sunday?

Or was Dean truly against him now?

Had a title belt really come between brothers?

Seth Rollins turning on the Shield had shocked him to total numbness, then pain like a fire, so perhaps he should have seen this coming all along. Dean was crazy, sure. They didn't call him "lunatic" for nothing. He'd baited Brock Lesnar into a fight, then all but begged for Lesnar to hit him, again and again and again. The guy was out of his mind, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what was at stake. Roman knew how badly he wanted to face Triple H at WrestleMania, be the champ.

But Roman wasn't the guy to step aside and let someone else have it all. Dean would have to fight for it, and if it meant Roman too, it meant Roman too.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt Roman so much to have to cause harm to his brother. His family. That Samoan drop had been pure instinct in which regret prevailed even before the action was executed. Fighting him in a match over a title—this time, the chance for a title—was one thing. Attacking him in retaliation against an instigated assail was different. Worse.

Like when Ambrose had had no choice but to come after Rollins after Seth broke the Shield apart with a swinging chair. He hadn't wanted to, but did he have to? Yes. Had he? Tried. Failed. Roman and Dean had both been severely damaged that night in more ways than the physical.

Roman blinked, aware of the tears in his eyes. Seth. How'd that guy keep coming back even though he was far away from the company, from this miserable experience? How would he handle it?

How could one live in such a way that betraying his best friends slid off his skin like water droplets?

Roman figured he could find out. It'd be good to hear from Seth again. Maybe it'd help him feel better.

After all, he and Rollins didn't despise each other much anymore. Not since the forward friendship he'd demonstrated after Survivor Series, after TLC, and at Christmastime. Rollins—Seth—was still there for him, more or less. Even if he wasn't literally there.

Roman finished his beer, then headed inside. In the darkness of the still hotel room—what an unpleasant feeling, this loneliness, badly missing Dean and at the same time hoping Ambrose didn't find a way to locate him here—he recovered his phone from the table. Seth's number came to him like a sculpted memory. He'd never forget it now, not after making himself delete it once and not think on that particular contact for over a year afterwards.

Seth was an hour behind him in Iowa. He shouldn't have been asleep, or that was the hope anyway. The call droned in four long rings before he got an answer.

"Hello?"

Roman's heart swelled in refined bliss. One word in one tone was all he needed to start feeling better, if not by a little bit. "Hey, little brother."

"Hey, Roman."

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Nope. Just eating noodles and watching the third _Iron Man_."

"You're that lonely, huh?"

Seth laughed. "Hey, I've got Kevin here, it's all good."

"Wish you were here in Ohio. We could have hit up a bar or something."

"Now, why would you wanna hit up a bar with someone like me?" The tone was teasing but it reminded Roman to be perfectly honest.

"I guess you know what's going on with Ambrose and me."

"Mmm." It wasn't an _mhmm_ to confirm Roman's statement. More of a musing like he almost couldn't believe what was happening, or he wasn't thrilled about it.

"Big day tomorrow."

"Let me stop you right there. We're not gonna beat around the bush about this, okay? Did you call me to talk about Dean?"

 _Wow, he's good_ , Roman thought. "I called because right now, I'm missing the hell out of you, man."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. "And, okay, yeah, about Ambrose."

"He's got a first name, Roman."

"I don't think he cares what I call him anymore, Seth. I'm thinking it's over between us." _Makes us sound like such a couple. Like this is a breakup. End of an era or something_. His eyes were pricking like the tears were acidic.

"You want me to be honest with you, Ro, or do you want me to comfort you and tell you it's all gonna be okay?"

"I'm someone who appreciates honesty." Though now he was feeling he wouldn't be too content with whatever Seth had planned to say. He lowered himself onto the bed.

"Okay. I've watched you guys every week since the Royal Rumble, okay? And by the way, amazing performance there, and it sucks ass that you lost to Triple H. But that's not what this call's about. When Stephanie announced you and Dean would be fighting each other and Lesnar at Fastlane, guess what? I wasn't even afraid. I knew she was just trying to screw with you, get inside your head. What pisses me off more than anything is that it worked. Now you guys are going at it way before your match, for no reason. I thought you were way above that. And I'm not just talking about you, Roman, I'm saying it about him, too. When I pulled my shit and left the Shield, the two of you surprised the world by sticking it out. You became something the company hadn't seen in a long time: true friendship. An unbreakable bond. The two of you were truly family. You still are. Nobody's declared the world of Ambreigns officially dead, alright?"

"Ambreigns?"

"Yeah, isn't that the word Kofi or someone used a few weeks ago on Raw?"

Roman closed his eyes. "Sure."

"The point is, you're both acting like children, okay? I know myself. I know what an ass I can be. But I know you too, Roman. _You've_ always been strong. And Dean might be crazy, but his heart was always in the right place. Retribution on me, okay, I deserved it. But your head was always held high, no matter what. I've told you this before. You're a badass. You shouldn't let _anyone_ define who you are and what you want. Except for me, when I say you're a badass, because you know I'm right and don't dispute me on it."

Roman chuckled without a smile intact. "Thanks."

"It's a serious point, Roman. I know exactly where you're at right now. That championship belt, it's toxic. It's…it's like the One Ring. Once you've had it, once you've felt it in your hands and you've carried it with you, it takes over. Big time. You're willing to put everything else down for its sake. You're willing to forget what's really important to you. Now I've been out for a while, and it's interesting being on the outside looking in. It's kind of depressing and pathetic to see what power does to people. Even the strong ones. I just…I don't want you to turn into me, okay, Roman? I don't want you to become completely blind to your friends, the people who love you and care about you, for the sake of a title. It's a fucking miserable feeling, Roman, one I'm still not over. It's got me possessed from across the country. I don't want that happening to you. Or Dean."

"It's too late for me," Roman sighed. He already knew the custody of glory on his life. He wanted it back. He craved it. He'd been at the top and he had no plans of not returning again.

"Honest to God, as happy as I'd be to see either of you with that championship belt, I'd almost rather root for Lesnar to take the chance, just so the two of you don't go completely insane over it."

"That's _not_ happening. Lesnar winning tomorrow, I mean. The hell it is."

"Whatever you say, and if that's what it comes down to, so be it. Besides. Neither of you should be concerning yourselves too much over WrestleMania. When I return, I'm taking back what's mine."

"I'll fight you for it."

"That's what I mean, Roman. You've changed. Dean has changed. I went down that road a long time ago, and look at me. I lost sight of who I was, and I got hurt and lost absolutely everything. For a while, I didn't even have my brothers to check up on me. I was truly alone. It sucks."

"I'm not going to choose to give up just so I don't risk turning into a power-hungry champion. It's still a championship."

"Guess that's what makes you a good wrestler." Seth's tone smoldered with disappointment. "You don't give up, no matter what. I've always admired it about you. But don't let it consume you. Please, for the love of God, don't let it take over your entire life. Don't give up on Dean. It would actually physically hurt me to watch you two fall apart. After everything you've been through."

Roman didn't know what to say. Seth being negatively affected by the relationship between Dean and Roman falling apart? What did _that_ say about a whole new perspective?

"That's not on me, Seth. That's on him."

"Nope. Don't try to blame him for any parting. He hit you, but you hit back. This entire match is getting to both of you. I've witnessed it."

Roman fell onto his back, glaring at the ceiling. "It hurt me to drop him the way I did," he confessed.

"Alright. That doesn't put you above him in any way."

"I know."

"I know I can't change your mind. Whatever happens is what's meant to happen. You're gonna fight your ass off, and so is he, and so is Lesnar. Whoever wins moves onto WrestleMania for the title. I have _no_ idea what's going to happen. And I don't know what other advice to give, except…prioritize, Roman. prioritize. Don't lose sight of what's most important. And I know you, brother. I know Dean means everything to you."

"Dean _does_ mean a lot to me."

"Does he mean more than this match?"

Roman's head throbbed. "I'd say it's equal at this point. I won't go easy on him."

"He's not expecting you to. It's just like Survivor Series. The two of you had it out there, and you made it through okay. I don't know why this time around, you're both acting like everything's different. Maybe it's because of what Steph said, or what Hayman said, I don't know. But if you're the Roman Reigns I know you are, you're gonna go down swinging and nothing will get in your way from the best you deserve. You and I are similar in that way. Just don't give us any more parallels, okay? You're better than that. You're better than me."

"We're all human. We make mistakes. And I forgave you. Remember?"

"Doesn't matter what happened, Roman. It's about the future now. And I'm just praying you do the right thing here."

"Weird to hear an atheist praying about something."

"Life's funny that way, huh?"

Roman's mouth stretched into a yawn.

"You need sleep, Ro. Get some rest. You were right before. Big day tomorrow."

"Yeah. Okay. Rest up, little brother. I'll be seeing you."

"Damn right, you will." Seth laughed. Roman found himself smiling again. _Thank God for him_.

"Good night, Seth."

"'Night, Roman."

Roman ended the call. He plugged his phone into its charger and rolled onto his side. He'd told Dean once, "No matter what." He'd told Dean so many times, "We're brothers. We're family." He recalled once instance where he told Dean that Dean was the only man in the company he even liked.

What could change? What could happen?

Roman asked himself the question as his body shut down for the night. He didn't know. He wasn't looking forward to it. He had no intentions of leaving Dean behind, champion or not. He'd told the truth to Seth before: it was on Ambrose.

Whatever Dean wanted, Roman would just have to accept.

He wasn't a quitter on anything or anyone.

* * *

"I take it he didn't know I was here."

"He didn't ask," Seth answered, returning to the living room. The movie was still paused on the flatscreen TV. Seth set his phone on the coffee table, then reclined on the couch beside Dean Ambrose. He reached into the bowl of popcorn in Dean's lap.

"Did he say anything about me, besides the obvious?"

"He thinks it's over between you guys."

Dean scoffed. His dirty locks bobbed with a shake of his head. "He's being dramatic. He's in this completely inaccurate mindset."

"Hey, I'm not letting either of you get away with incrimination. You've _both_ messed up this week."

"That doesn't mean we've got issues."

"Then why'd you fly out here to visit me?"

"Just wanted to see you." Dean shrugged a shoulder.

"And ask me for advice on Roman. You know I'm just a phone call away. Cheaper than an airline ticket."

Dean growled. "Seth, you don't—"

"I'm _kidding_ , geez. Now who's being dramatic? I love getting to see you. I'm glad you came, as out of the way it was for you."

"Two states or so. No big deal." Dean scooped a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Seth looked at him quietly for a moment. Dean reached for the remote to play the movie, but Seth grabbed his hand in the air.

"You need to call him."

"And say what, exactly? 'Sorry you Samoan-dropped my ass the other night'? He's too broken up and mopey to talk to me. He didn't even bother telling me which hotel he was staying at. We usually room together."

"He just needs some time alone."

"And he can have it. All the time he wants. I don't care."

"You do care."

"I don't."

"You care a little."

"I'll smack you in the head with this glass bowl, Seth."

Seth smiled but it was grim. Dean was dodging eye contact.

"I don't get what his deal is," Dean said. "This isn't our first smackdown. It probably won't be our last, either. I don't even care that he's in the match as much as I care about Lesnar's presence. The Beast Incarnate won't be more than a mewling fop when I'm done with him."

"What his _deal_ is?" Seth asked, neglecting the rest of Dean's sentence. To him it was simply a deflection. "Dean, he's scared to death he's going to lose you after tomorrow. He's convinced he already has, and Fastlane's just a formality."

"He's not gonna lose me." Dean's face wrinkled like any man was a fool to believe such a thing.

"Then tell him that."

"I have. Several times. We've joked about it. We mocked Stephanie to her face. I told him I can handle things. Why's he being such a wuss for?"

Seth's peer darkened. "You know damn well why he's feeling the way he is. Don't you sit there and lie to me about it."

Dean's narrowed eyes fastened to Seth's at last. "I can't blame myself for that as much as I blame you. No offense."

"No, I get that. I fucked the two of you up when it came to friendship and trust and loyalty. I have to live with that every day. But both of you can do me a favor and prove it's possible to hold onto your friends in this business, even through championship runs. It's not easy to do, but it's possible."

Dean put his hands in the air. "There's nothing to this. It's another match. We've done it before, you said so yourself. He needs to relax."

"You need to be a little more sympathetic."

"He'll be fine."

"Really? How fine were you when…" Invisible claws tore at Seth's insides just thinking about it now. "When I…left?"

"I wanted to kill you," Dean muttered. "Came close a couple of times, I think."

"Roman cares so much about you, Dean. You're his weak spot. You're the best thing he has going for him right now, at this moment in time, when the two of you don't have a belt to fight over. Now with that potential? Anything's possible."

Dean didn't say anything. His fixed gaze was now just beneath Seth's eyes, like he was studying the design on his shirt.

"Take losing me, multiply that by a hundred, and that's what he's afraid of. That's what he thinks is coming."

"And what if it is?" Dean challenged. "What if we _can't_ make it through this time? What if we've reached our breaking point?"

"Do you think you have?"

"I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it. It's driving me crazy." Dean pressed his hands over his eyes. "I didn't want to lose him. I _don't_ want to. But all this drama, all this misery, fangs at the throat…it keeps getting worse and worse. I'm almost afraid to keep committing. Like if I just back away now, I can save myself a little pain, know what I mean?"

Seth nodded. He knew Dean wasn't perfectly alright with things to come. At last he'd gotten through to Dean. "It won't happen if you fight for it. Don't just fight him. Fight _for_ him. Before it was never an issue. The two of you were just friends, right?"

"Best friends."

"There was nothing at stake. No wedge between you guys, no hostility, no conflict. Hell, it was _my_ conflict that drove you guys closer together, not apart. Now who's to say you can't make it through one more fight? It's not personal, it's business, get it?"

Dean peeked at Seth between his fingers. "What if we don't?"

"What if you do?"

With a sharp exhale, Dean let his hands drop to his lap.

"I believe you when you say you don't want to lose him. I know what the two of you mean to each other. He's your weak spot too, am I right?"

"You both are," Dean spoke softly, like it killed him to admit it.

"I'm not in the picture right now. I'm just the angel, or devil, on your shoulder. I'm telling you, you've been to hell and back together. This ain't nothing."

Dean pressed his lips together.

"My concern for you isn't you winning, maybe becoming WWE World Heavyweight Champion, and letting the power get to your head. It's a concern, but I'm more worried about that happening to Roman than to you." Dean had yet to taste that particular victory, so it hadn't began its ingestion of his soul the way Seth had seen, had heard, in Roman. "It was never about power or fame or glory for you. As nice as it'd be, that's not what you're in this for. You're in this to tear heads and kick ass and rock your way to your last days with the company."

"A championship would still be nice."

"I know it would, Dean, and honest to God, it would make me damn proud to see that belt on your waist, as proud as I was to see it on Roman's. But I'll tell you what I told him: prioritize. You don't wanna lose him? Prove it. Don't. Hold on. Through the nastiest storm, through the brightest days, _hold on_."

"What if he lets go of me?"

Seth licked his lips. That had been a concern, too: Roman losing his mind over his desire to win; losing himself, the way Seth had, and therefore losing Dean the same way. "I trust him not to forget how he feels about you."

"Roman loves me. I know it. But sometimes I'm thinking I could easily take second in his life."

Seth could relate. "I don't want him turning into me. And I don't want you neglecting your own emotions, 'kay? Don't assume everything is hunky-dory. You want something, you gotta fight for it. You tell me Roman's getting worked up over nothing, but have you even given him a reason to believe he means more to you than this match? Either you have and he's just stupid and not seeing it, or you haven't. And this week, you definitely haven't, Dean. You went after him."

Dean was quiet.

"Relationships take consistent building. It's a process through and to the end. You can't just neglect it and expect it to survive without some care. It's like a flower. You gotta water the shit."

"Even flowers die eventually, no matter how much you water it."

"But what you have is beautiful, so long as you tend to it."

Dean's eyes were layered with a sheet of tears now. Seth opened his arms and allowed Dean to fall into him. Seth closed his arms, securing Dean in a hold he needed.

"How did things get so messed up?"

"I blame Stephanie, Paul Hayman, Lesnar, and both you guys. Mistakes have been made all around. Juvenile behavior has been succumbed to. But it's not too late. It's never too late to patch things up. You can look to me as proof of that one. The longer you wait, the longer it'll take for the wounds to heal. But they'll scar up. They _will_ heal."

"Can't believe I let things get _this_ shitty." His voice was muffled almost to incomprehensibility in Seth's shoulder.

"Shut up and believe in yourself. Believe in what I'm telling you."

"What the hell would I do without you, Rollins?"

"Crash and burn."

Dean drew out of the hug. "Thanks, brother."

"Sure thing. You gonna call Roman now?"

But Dean shook his head. Unbelievable. He was still arrogant and scared. "I'll wait till morning. I heard you tell him good night. I don't wanna wake him."

"It could change his night. Make it better," Seth encouraged.

"Let's just get back to the movie, alright? You mind if I crash here tonight? I don't feel like renting a hotel room."

Dean didn't want to be alone. Seth wasn't in a place to call him out on it. "Sure, that's fine."

"Thanks." Dean reached for the remote.

Seth's eyes were on the TV but his mind was far from this room, from this moment. His brain was ahead in time, and he was certain Dean's was, too. Even in his sleep, in a lonely hotel room in Ohio, Roman certainly was still thinking on things to come.

What would happen to Dean and Roman?

Who would win and what could be lost as a result?

Seth didn't know but the waiting was killing him slowly. He could feel the pain just as much as Roman and Dean both. He could only do what the rest of the world was expected to do in the light of Fastlane: expect for the worst, hope like hell for the best.


End file.
